It felt much like she was sucked into a tunnel that went on and on, with no light and only doors on each side that were safely locked. She couldn’t move at all but something seemed to push her towards a black column through which she could see faint rays of light.
A sudden wave of energy went through her body and she felt her hands tremble while she started to feel nauseous. It reminded her of the time she Apparated with Spinnard, a moment she dreaded even if she knew it was going to come in hand later.
Once she entered through the light, everything became dark and the weather was freezing cold. She opened her eyes and saw Dumbledore talking to a petite woman with long brown hair and teary eyes. She had to walk closer in order to hear them because they were trying to be as quiet and secretive as possible. It was quite clear that the woman was a Veela; although she looked quite the opposite of her son, she was beautiful beyond words.
“Please, you have to take him with you,” the woman pleaded, her voice giving away the fear and pity she felt. “Albus, he doesn’t know and I’ve been trying so hard to hide and come up with logical explanations but he’s going to be 10 soon. Just, take him one year earlier.”
Dumbledore sighed but his face was impossible to read. He seemed to be deep in thought but the answer that followed was a surprise.
“I’m sorry but you will have to endure it one more year. I will help you in any way I can, if you want to send him away. But I don’t know if Hogwarts will welcome him, Emily. He’s dangerous.” Dumbledore replied, looking at the woman with cold blue eyes. “A wizard cannot repress his powers consciously for as long as your son has. If he suddenly uses them under no surveillance, he can easily lose control.”
It was the first time Ophelia had seen that kind of distant look on the headmaster. He was younger, that was for sure, and he was not in a posture of power at school but he had a heart and this woman was obviously afraid that something bad will happen to her child.
“You don’t understand, Albus. His father will kill both of us if he discovers the truth. I played stupid for so long, I cannot have my son be denied who he really is. I can see him struggling every day while his father’s telling stories of his grand-parents and how they sacrificed witches to cleanse their village.”
“That is the problem, Emily. You, a Veela, should have not married a muggle with such principles. You made him an obscurial.”
“I know. I know. I should have left but I love him, Albus. I love Richard and I love Idris and-“
“You have to choose or else one of them will die.” Dumbledore said looking at Emily with pity mixed with some type of judgmental stare. He knew what was more important to her and from the looks of it her wizard son was second place.
Ophelia stared at Emily with the same cold gaze as Dumbledore and couldn’t believe a mother was ready to sacrifice her son just to be with a mere muggle. Anger filled her heart and she couldn’t help but wonder how Idris came in the possession of this particular memory.
Her answer came with the next pull into the same nauseous state while she felt her eyes roll in the back of her mind. It all stopped when she arrived at Hogwarts. She was in the Transfiguration classroom which looked exactly the same as it did in her time. She saw many students from Hufflepuff talk about what Dumbledore was going to show them. It was maybe the beginning of the year because the students were way too excited. Ophelia walked to Idris, the boy that was like a bright white spot in a crowd of yellows. She couldn’t help but stare at the teenage boy in awe. She had to rub her eyes twice and look at him from different angles in search of a bad feature but there was none. He was beautiful with medium length white hair that was a lot messier than she expected and his clothes were in the same worn out state as Potter’s because of all the extracurricular activities, some worse than others. But his face was bright, kind, he was smiling quite a bit and he looked happy.
And then the image darkened. Every student vanished except Idris and another boy, both staring at each other as if ready to raise their wands and attack.
“Stay away from my sister, Veela-boy. Just because you’re handsome does not give you the right to play with Rosie’s heart.” The boy hissed glaring at Idris who was twice his height.
“I only helped her study for our exams. I never intended for her to fancy me so passionately.”
The tone the white haired boy used was not the right one in this case. Idris sounded like the proud asshole Ophelia met on the first day and that was enough to annoy a bubbly Cerberus, so the effect on this boy was double!
“Expelliarmus!” the boy shouted, moving fast towards Idris.
He probably wanted to get a punch or two but Idris caught his fist and bent it backwards, his height making him look a lot like he was going to torture the boy. His strength was no joke as the Veela-boy literally forced the other boy to kneel in front of him. It reminded Ophelia of Lucius Malfoy now that she got a better look.
“Do not believe for one moment that a half-blood like yourself can touch me, Whitby. Your sister tried to slip me some love potion and we both know she got obsessed by herself. I only did what professor McGonagall asked.”
The boy, Whitby, glared up at Idris before he used some type of spell to get himself free. Then he muttered curse after curse, but Idris was fast and deflected them all. One hit him, though. Whitby was so angry that he used the cruciatus curse and Idris did not expect it. He was thrown into the door and his whole body started convulsing. It was not only painful but sensing that blood dripped from his right ear, he got angry. He got up and didn’t care that the door cracked open. He didn’t care about anything and his eyes were set on the boy in front of him. And then Ophelia felt this veil over her eyes as if the memory itself was so foggy that not even Idris could remember it exactly. When it ended, Whitby was lying on the ground in a poor state. Dumbledore came in with the headmaster of that time and they looked between the victim and his attacker. Dumbledore’s heavy gaze was the same as McGonagall’s when she came to visit Ophelia after her duel with Zabini.
Another memory that she was pushed into was one between two boys. They were in the library and they were whispering and fighting at the same time. Taking a long look around, she noticed it was another year because Whitby was well, studying with his classmates, but he did have a scar on his neck that looked like someone tried to hang him but had second thoughts before he could kill him. But Ophelia shook that off and turned to the boy that interested her.
“I know your secret, Idris. Trust me I can help you control it.” Newt said, watching his friend with worry in his eyes. He was an average boy compared to Idris in physique but he seemed very stubborn.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Idris answered, taking a book off the shelf. Newt threw his friend a skeptical look and followed him as he sat at a desk and opened his book in order to study.
“We sleep in the same bedroom, we go to the same classes, we study in the same places and when we want to be alone, we go in the Astronomy Tower.”
“You go as close to the Forest as possible,” Idris commented, glancing up at Newt for a moment before he hid his face again in the book.
“I saw you,” The thin boy whispered, “I saw it. That dark form is unnatural and it got me curious. You’re an Obscurial, aren’t you?”550Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSoDC6plGOo
Idris froze and with slow moves and slow intakes of breath he put the book aside and leaned over the table.
“Do not say a word about it to anyone. Not even Dumbledore or your pretty friend in Slytherin!” He hissed.
“I can help you keep it under control. I read a few books about it this summer and-” Newt looked eager to try out what he read.
“You don’t know how to, Newt. Just leave me be.” That was a very Idris thing.
“If something happens-“ Newt seemed to be aware of something that the white haired boy didn’t. “You know how Slytherins have been particularly greedy this year. Let me remind you that ever since that incident, Rosier has been trying to lure you in.”
“Rosier is a fool but even if he does something, I’ll take responsibility. But nothing will happen, I assure you. I’ve been controlling it ever since I was a child. This bubble of darkness cannot eat me,” He said, sounding so sure.
“But how? Your mother is a Veela and your father is a muggle! How can you become an obscurial when your family knows-“ Newt stopped when he saw the frown on his friend’s face. “Are you serious? But how can that be?!”
“My father hates witches; his whole family is very paranoid and hates anything that is odd. Mom has been lying to him that I go to an all boys’ boarding school for the past four years.”
So he was a fourth year and seemed to trust this Newt enough to confide into him. It felt different, seeing this side of someone whose first impression was one of the most insufferable bastards in the world. As a student, Idris was just a normal wizard going through school like a regular kid. His hair was shorter this year and it looked like his mother tried to color it a darker shade but it didn’t work. Ophelia could see the brown around his ears and a bit on the back of his neck but most of his hair was snowy white.
“What kind of abnormal idea is that? Are you telling me that those stories about witches burned on a stake are real?” Newt asked, his eyes widening at the information.
“Seems so, at least in my father’s village. Mum is sure that if dad ever finds out the truth, he’ll kill us.” He answered, his father’s words echoing in his mind. Ophelia could hear it too and it was chilling.
Witches, ha! I told ya mother before, kid, that if I ever find one I’ll do the same as my grandfather. A noble man he was! There was one a little girl your age and do you know what she did? She killed a crow and used its heart for soup! Then my old man witnessed his old man hanging that little girl. She was a witch. That’s what they all deserve, to die and be sent back to Hell.
Ophelia shuddered at the way this man was remembering a story so grotesque and was telling it to his kid, whose age was not even 11 yet! It was no surprise that Idris was forced to repress his magic with the enemy at home. If something were to happen around him that would be the end. And his American accent and the way he was speaking with such passion and admiration for those killers; it was horrible.
And then it changed again and Ophelia found herself in the Entrance Hall. Dumbledore was there with Newt and Idris. The latter was pissed off but he was also incredibly scared.
“I have to go back! My mother is in danger, you have to help me professor!” Idris shouted, alarming Newt.
“Professor, it seems someone sent Mr. Eynon a letter in which he was asked if he’d like to send his son to a Quidditch camp this summer.” Newt explained slowly. "It seems it was very detailed."
“If you go, I’m afraid you may not be allowed back, Idris.” Dumbledore said looking knowingly at the white haired boy. Newt glanced curiously at his friend but Idris seemed to understand what his professor meant.
“I know.”
“If your mother is indeed in desperate need of help, I allow you to go but the headmaster will be angry when he will find out.” Dumbledore added but it was clear the choice was already made.
“I’ll go. I’ll use the hippogriff we have in care of magical creatures in order to get there in time. Newt offered to help me get close enough for it to accept me.” Idris explained.
And then the images fast forwarded to the moment he was dropped in front of his house. The lights were on and noise was coming out an open window. Idris swallowed nervously and took one step to the house before he heard his mother scream in pain. His eyes widened and he rushed inside with incredible speed.
“Mum!”
Emily Eynon was on the ground with blood dripping down her temples. She had bruises all over her arms and neck and one of her eyes was dark purple. Idris was trying his best to keep himself in check but once he noted how much the bruise on her neck looked like fingers, he broke.
“YOU! HOW DARE YOU TRY AND STRANGLE HER!” he screamed at Richard but the man couldn’t care less.
“So I was right huh? This wench fooled me for five years! Boys’ boarding school, my ass! You were playing with other oddities like you!” He screamed as well but his tone was hoarser, he had used most of his vocal power when yelling at his wife. “Fifteen years! For fifteen long years you and your mother lied to me! I could feel something was wrong when you were born with white hair and pale skin but that freak Emily knew exactly how to make me accept you. I bet you poured potions in my food and made me lose my mind for a while but not anymore. I know what you are and you will pay for making me look like an idiot!”
“Don’t dare threaten me,” Idris hissed, his eyes narrowing so much that his orbs could hardly be seen.
“You freak! You dare tell me what I can’t do! I’m going to burn this house and you will die in agony!”
Ophelia watched with wide eyes and her mouth agape as Richard Eynon took a pack of matches and lit one up before throwing it randomly in the house. He did that again and again until the matches ran out and little fires enlightened his blue eyes.
“I’m going to kill you,” Idris muttered, anger filling every corner of his body.
Emily noticed the shadows gathering around her son, dark fog forming once they reached his body. He got up slowly and glared at the man that was enjoying the sight way too much.
“No, Idris. No, please, don’t,” she moaned but could hardly move her arms. She reached out towards him as much as she could but that image alone made Idris feel even worse.
“I’m going to kill you,” he muttered again, but louder this time. “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!”
Ophelia took a step back although she knew she was much like a ghost and nothing could touch her. The darkness that surrounded Idris was so powerful and so thick that she could barely see his white hair. He became this giant ball of shadow and it truthfully looked like a dozen Dementors fused together into this giant creature with no real shape.
In one blink, Ophelia found herself in the middle of a ruin. She looked around and noticed that the whole neighborhood was like a huge crater and nothing survived.
“They’re coming after you,” that was definitely Dumbledore’s voice. He sounded sad, if not sorry even.
“I know,” Idris answered, standing in the middle of the blast. It was so, so silent.
The images mixed together until Ophelia was thrown into another memory. She was in the Ministry, she guessed from the way everyone seemed so formal and all mighty. It was somewhere underground and she was standing a few feet from a door. She thought several times if she should enter or not but she had to see for herself. Inside, she found a lot of wizards around a cage where Idris was quietly standing in. It was a freaking cage! As if he was an animal! That was not what she expected, not from the Wizengamot she knew. But then she heard his name, the man that was about to punish the fifth year Hufflepuff.
“Idris Eynon, you have murdered ten muggles and destroyed their homes completely; you used magic in front of a non-magical person and threatened to kill them. Am I wrong?” the judge asked, staring at the boy with the same glint as Rodolphus Lestrange.
“No, sir.” He replied, making the whole crowd gasp in horror.
“You will rot in Azkaban.” The judge added sounding way too happy about his sentence.
At that moment, a boy came running to the cage and stood in front of it as if to protect it. He was followed by Dumbledore who looked at Idris with pity.
“It was not his fault, Rosier. It seems a student, one who had problems with Mr. Eynon here, had sent a compromising letter to his family. It led to breaking most rules at Hogwarts and I do agree that he should be expelled. But Azkaban is too much for such a young boy.” Dumbledore started his pleading.
“Is that so?” Rosier the Judge asked sarcastically, “Have you forgotten that he murdered ten muggles, Dumbledore? Or is that nothing to you?”
“But sir! I apologize but I found out at school that it was a Slytherin that sent that letter knowing what was going to happen!” Newt interfered, with way too much spirit for his status as an underage student.
“And who is this supposed Slytherin?”
Newt glanced at Dumbledore uncomfortably before he muttered, “Augustus Rosier. Your son, sir,”
Rosier the Judge rose on his feet and glared at the Hufflepuff in such an evil way that she understood now that was a family trait. Rosier that was bugging her was a lot like his ancestors.
“How dare you insult my family, boy. Take him away! They let students come and meddle into affairs that do not involve them!” Rosier ordered, a number of people pushing Newt aside harshly. “Is that what you teach our children, Dumbledore? To accuse whoever they have a feud with?”
“I assure you that Newt and your son have rarely interacted at school or outside it. But I do know Augustus and his friends have taken an interest in Idris. As you know, he is an obscurial and he cannot control his anger when taunted. I believe this was only a way of revealing his obscurus for someone’s enjoyment.”
“And you believe it was my son and his friends?! Don’t make me laugh, Dumbledore! You’re talking about all the pure-blooded houses of Britain.”
“That may be so but we cannot send Idris to Azkaban when he was not in control of his obscurus form.”
“It’s fine professor. Let them do it. I was aware of everything I was doing and I didn’t care. I wanted him dead. “Idris took the word, sounding like he was embracing himself mentally for what was to come.
But that did not happen. Idris used his obscurus in order to break free on the way to the prison and used the same hippogriff to fly into hiding. Newt was the one that brought the creature and he was the one that informed Dumbledore of how it went. The two boys shared a few words before Idris left.
“I believe you, never forget that.” Newt said, his eyes glinting in the moonlight with sorrow.
“Of course you do. You believe in every pretty face, that’s a problem you’ll have later on, Newt. You’re too kind. You shouldn’t trust people so easily.”
“I’ll find a way to cure you. I’m sure there is some spell that we can use and if there isn’t, I’ll just have to create one.”
Idris chuckled and hugged his former colleague. It was a lot more meaningful than Newt thought. Ophelia sighed sadly as she realized Idris was heartbroken.
“Goodbye, dear friend,” Idris whispered.
That was the last time the two Hufflepuffs saw each other. They never met again, unfortunately.
Ophelia was pushed outside his mind and she needed a moment to regain her composure. When she registered every piece she had seen, she looked at Idris with teary eyes.
“You liked him, didn’t you? He saw past that handsome appearance and perfect scores; he saw the darkness in your heart and he was there for you. I guess he didn’t have the chance to show you if he ever found a way to get rid of your obscurus.” Ophelia commented feeling her heart tighten at the memory.
“Newt Scamander is a legend in itself. He wrote Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, a book you still use in Hogwarts. He loved magical creatures and he had a soft spot for monsters. That was his fault. He was expelled a few months later for a different reason and he took part in events that changed the history of the wizarding world. I’m proud I was the friend of such a personality.” He said with a soft expression.
“Is that why you are an arsehole? You’re afraid that another Rosier will pop up and mess with your life?”
“It already happened. Dumbledore came to me for help, ironically enough. As you saw, he’s a complex person, your headmaster. I don’t advise you to trust him, Ophelia.”
“Then who should I trust? My father?”
“Trust your friends. I watched you this term and I noticed there are a handful of students that you should keep close. Potter is one them but Rabastan is not. Never trust the Lestranges or the Malfoys. They will turn against you when you need their help the most. They are cowards and cowards outlive the heroes.”
Ophelia stared into Idris’ eyes and nodded unconsciously. She could still see traces of the monster that murdered so many people but behind that veil of darkness was an innocent and lonely boy. That was the first and last time Idris has shown his vulnerability to her.
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